Later, they sat drinking brandy in the main hall with the stained glass and managed to remain civil enough that Penelope had a chance to really observe the man everyone managed to get caught up in knots over.
Constantine’s questions about the hunt for Thevetat since the bombing were precise enough that Penelope caught glimpses of the military genius she had read about in the historical accounts. Physically, he was big, broad, and so masculine Penelope was grateful Carolyn wasn’t there to flirt herself to death. He had lines at the corner of his eyes from staring at battlefronts and Holy Land sunsets, and when he smiled, they creased upward in a way that made Penelope want to smile too. There was something about him that could make you believe pleasure was as vital and nourishing to the spirit as Holy Scripture. He was unashamedly equal parts sinner and saint.
In comparison, Alexis had and would always have an intangible air about him, as if he were part of a dream—the subtle whisper of the turning pages of a forgotten fairy tale, with a hint of danger and golden magic lingering in his shadows. Constantine’s air was rooted in mud and blood, battle and passion, and if you dreamed of him, it would be a dream of glory and theology and would be entirely of his design and purpose.
“We should pick this up again tomorrow.” Constantine set his empty glass down. “I want to go to the chapel to think this through and pray for Nereus. I know you’re holding something back from me.” He peered at Penelope.
“And what makes you think that?” she asked.
“Because you still haven’t asked me what you really want. You’re deciding if you can trust me first.”
“You’re not offended?”
“Not at all. It’s a smart move, considering you had no idea your friend Tim was a close associate of Abaddon.”
Penelope didn’t know if the barb was intended, but the words still stung.
“We all could do with some sleep. Thank you for allowing us to stay under your roof tonight, Constantine.” Alexis offered him a short bow.
“I wasn’t lying when I said I’m pleased to see you all again. Sleep well.” Constantine paused by the door and gave Penelope a provocative grin. “Penelope? Feel free to browse the books if Alecto isn’t entertainment enough for you tonight. Otherwise, my door is always open.”
Alexis glared. “Pray to your God that I don’t smother you in your sleep, Emperor.”
Constantine’s smile only brightened.
FOLLOWING CONSTANTINE’S EXAMPLE, they all dispersed to various parts of the villa, but Penelope was restless. The night of conversation had done nothing to empty her mind or put it at ease.
Alexis brushed a thumb across her cheek. “I need to call and check on Zo. Go for a walk, Penelope. I’ve set wards around the grounds, so as long as you don’t wander out of them, I’ll be able to find you if you get into any trouble.”
“Can you read me so well already?”
“You’re wound so tightly that you’re making me anxious too. Take some time for yourself. It might calm you enough to sleep.” Despite his encouraging tone, there was worry around his eyes.
She kissed his cheek. “I promise I won’t be long.”
“You say that because you haven’t seen all of his books yet.”
Despite the temptation of a new library, Penelope needed to be outside. The night was warm, and small solar-powered lights guided her through the gardens. Her mind was exhausted from the churning worries, unanswered questions, and plain frustration. Penelope took three deep breaths and looked up at the stars’ burning fire above her. When an eerily beautiful sound drifted through the trees, she abandoned her deep breathing and soon found herself at the side of a small stone building.
Curious, Penelope found an open door and slipped inside to the front of a chapel, hidden in a stone nave behind the altarpiece. It shielded her from view, but she could still see the wooden pews and brightly painted murals, all lit by hundreds of beeswax candles. Constantine stood transfixed as Aelia sang, her voice reverberating so that the very stones seemed to hum in time with her.
With eyes silver with tears, Constantine held his hand out to Aelia, and she let herself be drawn into the circle of his arms. When the song ended, Penelope found her own cheeks wet, even though she hadn’t understood a word of it.
“Psalm 53 in Aramaic. You really do know my weak spots,” Constantine said.
“I had to do something to get your attention. I swear I was one step away from coming in here naked.”
“Come now, Princess. There’s no need to be so dramatic.”
“Isn’t there? I haven’t seen you in ten years, and you haven’t tried to kiss me once. Have you finally become unattracted to me?”
Constantine ran his fingers through her hair. “Such a thing would be impossible. I’d happily kiss you if I thought it was me you wanted to make love to.”
“I’m standing in your arms right now. That should be indicative enough.”
Feeling like an intruder, Penelope turned back toward the door, only to find that it had closed during Aelia’s song. As quietly as she could, she pushed down on the handle, but it was locked. Shit, shit, shit. She was going to be forced to wait them out before she could try the other chapel doors.
“When are you going to stop lying to yourself?”
“What are you talking about? I’m not lying to myself about anything.” Aelia stared up at him in defiance. “What’s wrong? Has God finally cursed you with chastity?”
“Not yet. Don’t be angry. Listen to what I’m saying.” Constantine pulled her back to him. “I have loved you since I met you, but you can’t return that love in a way I’m willing to accept anymore. I thought if I waited long enough, your heart would change. But it hasn’t, and I want all of you or none at all.”
Aelia stumbled back like she’d been slapped. Penelope prayed if there was a God, it would teleport her somewhere else. Instead of God, the chapel doors opened, and Phaidros stood like a golden angel ready to smite them all. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Really, Aelia? How many times does he have to hurt you before you’ll stop running back to him?”
Constantine let Aelia go. “Tell him, Aelia.”
“Tell me what?”
Constantine straightened his shoulders and strode past Phaidros and out of the chapel.
Phaidros moved to join Aelia where she now stood alone. “What is he talking about?”
“What are you doing here?” she snapped. “It’s none of your damn business, and you have no right to interfere.”
“I didn’t even know you were in here! I was out in the gardens. I saw the lights on and walked in on you making another stupid mistake that will leave you heartbroken.”
“It’s my heart to break!” Aelia’s shoulders shook as she turned away from him. “It doesn’t matter anyway. He doesn’t want me, and you were right on time to witness my rejection.”
Phaidros’s fierce expression softened. “I’ve always said Constantine is a fool, and now here is irrevocable proof.”
Aelia turned a tear-streaked face toward him. “Gloat. Now is your chance to humiliate me the way I humiliated you.”
“No.”
Aelia shoved him hard in the chest. “Do it! Tell me how stupid I am. I know you want to.”
Phaidros caught her hands. “No. You’ve been hurt enough for one night.”
“Please do it,” she begged. “Then I can stop feeling this way, and we can finally be even.”
“Even for what? What are you talking about?”
Aelia laughed bitterly. “You really have no clue. Do you have any idea what it’s been like to carry this debt around for centuries, and to know I have no way to atone for it?”
“What debt?” Phaidros looked helpless.
“You…asshole.” Aelia pushed her hands through her hair and began to pace. “Fine! Here’s the ridiculous truth of it all: On Atlantis, I was forced to publicly reject you so my father wouldn’t have you killed. I couldn’t accept your wish to court me because I was royalty and a
high priestess, and you were still a boy from a backwater village, no matter how talented of a magician you were.” She released another bout of bitter laughter. “And then, all the princes and honorable sons that were meant to be better than you wouldn’t even bother to risk their lives to save me. No, as I lay dying, the world exploding with fire around me, it was the fucking peasant who rushed in to save me, even after I’d been so horrible to him. That is a debt I can never repay.” Aelia buried her face in her hands and sobbed.
Phaidros hesitated before putting his hands on her shaking shoulders, and when she flinched, he drew her close. “There is no debt, Aelia. There never has been, and you should’ve known that.”
“I’m so, so sorry—”
“You’ve nothing to be sorry for. I have never regretted saving you, even when you’ve been a pain in the ass.”
Penelope gritted her teeth, uncomfortable to be witnessing such an intimate scene. She pulled urgently on her link to Alexis. He appeared wild-eyed and ready to fight in a cloud of shimmering black sand, but Penelope rushed to clap a hand over his mouth. She pointed at the locked door helplessly and then at Phaidros and Aelia. Alexis took her hand, and they disappeared in a swirl of shimmering black sand.
ALEXIS AND Penelope reappeared on the villa’s pebbly beach.
“Thank you. I got locked in.” Penelope related the conversation she’d overheard, feeling awkward at witnessing something so private.
“I sympathize with you, my love. On the bright side, they are finally talking it out. Aelia has never spoken to me about this. How terrible to carry that misplaced guilt for so long.” Alexis shook his head.
Penelope laughed. “So much for my relaxing walk.”
“How about a relaxing swim instead?”
She frowned. “Are you serious?”
“Very. It’s a warm night. The water will be perfect.” He dragged off his shirt and unbuckled his belt. Alexis had that playful-yet-mysterious look in his eyes that Penelope loved most. It said, Come with me, and we’ll have adventures no one will believe.
She was weak for it, so she pulled her singlet over her shoulders. “If we give some poor priest a heart attack, you’re doing the CPR.”
“If it makes you feel better, I’ll put a barrier up so no one will see us.” Alexis grinned as he waded out into the dark blue water. He turned, watching her undress with an expression that made Penelope blush all over. She’d always been too studious to be one of those teenagers throwing parties and skinny-dipping with boys she shouldn’t—something she was embarrassingly aware of as she did her best to appear as unfazed as Alexis did.
She waded out to him, and he held his hands out to balance her. The water cooled her burning core, and the tenseness in her muscles released almost instantly. It was the most relaxed she’d been in the sea since she nearly drowned. Alexis’s hands came around her waist and stroked the base of her spine.
“This was a great idea.” Penelope draped her arms around his neck.
“Are you feeling any better? Calmer, maybe?”
“Much better. How’s Zo?”
“He’s fine, as I knew he would be. You’re worrying far too much, cara. This isn’t the first time we’ve been in a war. We all know what to do.”
“I can’t help it. Nereus trusted me to be her heir—to look after all of you, not only the Archives.” Penelope hid her face against his neck, not one to admit her worries aloud.
“We aren’t your responsibility, Penelope. Nereus was our master and our mother. You are not, so don’t try to be.”
“I don’t know what I’m going to do about the Archives, Thevetat, or the magic I’m suddenly supposed to have. I’ve always had a plan, but now I’m in a situation where I don’t know how to help.”
Alexis held her close to his chest. “You only need to be yourself. Nereus chose you for your strengths and abilities, for your stubbornness and tenacity, and the compassion and patience you have for all of us. You don’t need to be anything else.”
Heart burning, unable to find the words to express her emotions, Penelope whispered, “I love you.”
Alexis kissed her shoulder. “I love you too, but you need to stop thinking so hard and be kinder to yourself.”
“I need to stop thinking so hard? That’s rich coming from you! You’re so caught up in your head, you don’t even know what day of the week it is.”
“I don’t need to know the day of the week, because every day I wake up with you, I count as a blessing.”
Penelope laughed. “Smooth, Donato. Very smooth.”
“I thought so.” Alexis spun her around in the water before sinking down so that he was level with her. “You’ll be the one to get the information we need out of Constantine. He already likes you, and that is no easy feat.”
“He might kick us out after what I just witnessed. I’d thought that if all else failed, Aelia could use her charms on him.”
“You don’t need Aelia’s charms when you have plenty of your own. He’s changed since I last saw him. He’s calmer and far more receptive to listening than what I thought he’d be.”
“He’s missed you. I can tell. You both have fierce intellects and can challenge each other.” Penelope had seen how easily they’d fallen back into conversation. The time apart didn’t seem to be an impediment, and she hoped that the peace between them lasted.
“Constantine has never had a problem with challenging anyone,” Alexis said. “And I’m not interested in talking about him right now.” He gave her a heated look, then kissed her.
All thoughts fled Penelope’s brain as her body took over. She hooked her legs around him and buried her hands in his wet black curls. The sea, the starry sky, the man in her arms—it all made her feel so alive that her heart pounded and her breath caught.
Alexis broke off the kiss so abruptly that she almost slipped out of his grip. “Penelope, look,” he whispered, his voice filled with awe.
She looked down. Small streams of water tangled and wrapped around her arms and chest. “What’s happening?”
“Shhh, don’t panic. Breathe, cara.”
“Why are you doing this?” She twisted her arms about.
“I’m not doing it. You are. Tell me, what were you just feeling?”
Penelope stared wide-eyed at the liquid lace rising from the ocean to clothe her. “I was feeling…connected to everything.”
“And now?”
“Nervous. But not afraid.”
“Good. Put your hands on my chest.”
As Penelope moved, the water stayed where it was, dancing around her fingers as she placed her hands on his pecs.
He asked, “Can you transfer it to me?”
“How?”
“Focus on what you want it to do. It’s okay; you won’t hurt me.”
For a long moment, nothing happened. Then, ever so slowly, the water trickled from Penelope’s hand and webbed over his chest. “It’s working.” She bit her lip. The floral-and-citrus scent that had clung to her clothes after her vision of Poseidon hung around them. Her throat tightened. “Can you smell that?”
Alexis pressed his nose to the top of her head. “They were called Poseidon’s Tears,” he said, his voice far away. “It’s become the scent of your magic.”
Something shifted, and the watery lace splashed apart, making her jump, and Alexis burst out laughing. “Well done,” he said between salty wet kisses.
“What do you mean ‘well done?’ I barely held it for a second. Oh, I feel—” She swayed, and Alexis moved to hold her upright.
“You’re okay, Penelope. Better than okay.”
She sagged in his arms. “I’m so drained. Why?”
“Magic is energy, and you just released some of that energy. You’ll get used to it as you learn to control it. How’s your foggy head? Any better?”
Penelope rolled her neck. The pressure that had been wrapped around her head for days was gone. “Yeah, it is. How?”
“I tried to warn you that the magic of
the high tide will affect you too. It seems it already has been. After the glass exploded, I thought getting you into water might help, and it appears I was right.”
“You don’t need to look so smug about it.”
“I have you wet and naked in my arms, and your magic just manifested. The night is perfect. Of course I’m going to be smug.” Alexis kissed her neck. “You are going to be such a great magician.”
IT WAS STILL the wet season in the Bahamas, and it didn’t matter how many times Marco showered, he was still uncomfortably sticky. They had rented rooms in a boutique hotel off the main beach in Nicholls Town and had been careful to avoid the notice of tourists, locals, and the constant stream of Duilio Industries workers. While the company’s head office was in Nassau, the construction workers, engineers, and project managers commuted from Nicholls Town to the floating hotel site at the smaller islands of the Joulter Cays.
On the night they arrived, Lyca had disappeared. When she returned, she’d woken Marco with a rough jab and presented him with his new outfit—a light blue worker’s uniform stolen from a clothesline—and an access ID, thanks to Galenos. Marco thought going to the site was an unnecessary risk that could explode in their faces.
Lyca, however, was insistent. “We might as well go and see what we’re dealing with. I don’t care for photographs. I need to see the enemy’s camp with my own eyes.”
“What if we’re recognized?” asked Marco, even as he pulled on the overalls.
“The only people who might know what we look like will be priests in managerial positions, and it’s been my experience that no one in that kind of position notices anyone lower than them.” Lyca put on a blue cap that hid most of her silvery-white hair.
They were scanned for phones at security before boarding the boat that ferried workers out to the construction site. Lyca stood silent beside him as tall fangs of steel rose out of the ocean in front of them, like an ancient creature rising from the deeps.
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